The Association of Black, Potter, Petigrew, Lupin
by the last time
Summary: How did Sirius and the rest of the gang really meet? They can't have hit it off straight away, right?
1. Chapter 1

**The association of Sirius Black and James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.**

It was only ten o'clock in the morning, but already Platform 9 and ¾ was bustling with people, muggle borns, half bloods, blood traitors, and pure bloods. We were in a corner, and my mother, Walburga Black, was looking round with beady eyes, trying to spot any other pure blooded children for me, Sirius Black, to sit with.

'Mother?' I queried, 'Who am I to sit with when I am sorted into Slytherin?'

'You'll be sitting on Narcissas' left, and encourage any year mates to sit next to, or near you. Then you can start to make connections and rise up the hierarchy straight away.'

'Yes mother. I'll write to inform you of any links made that evening. Oh, I've spotted Cousin Bellatrix. Will I be sitting with them on the train ride in?'

'Of course you will child, who else would you be sitting with? That Nott boy?' The mother and son shared a private laugh over the unfortunate turn of events for the Nott family, three months previously; one of the Nott daughters had married a filthy muggle and had shamed the family beyond belief. They still hadn't got over the shame of it all, and likely never would.

Walburga looked down on her oldest son, and gave him a rare smile, 'You'll be fine Sirius, you always are.' I looked up at my mother's identical grey eyes and smiled at her. 'Goodbye, I'll see you for the Christmas Holidays, and I'll write every week.'

When I _finally_ arrived at the great Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I was a curious mix of excited, nervous, hungry, confident and relaxed. As I climbed into a boat with three other boys who were chattering amongst themselves I looked around and saw around forty other students gathering around the boats. They were easily identifiable as to their blood status. The pure bloods among them, I already knew, but were recognisable by their indifference to the rumpus going on around them. Mudbloods were recognised by their unabashed staring at every little bit of magic, and were gazing at Hogwarts as though a God had just descended amongst them. Half bloods were recognised by their similarities to mudbloods, but half bloods were not as obvious in their staring at all things magical.

Having deduced who was who in the crowds, I turned to the other three occupants of his boat. To my disgust, there were two half bloods in his boat. The final boy was almost too much to bear though, a blood traitor. I recognised the blood traitor as the Potter boy, James, as my third cousin – twice removed. The shame of even being even third cousins with people who were willing to treat filth and pure bloods equally was almost unbearable. But I am strong, so I pushed the disgusted thoughts to the back of my head as the other boys turned to me, finally realising that there was, in fact, another human in the boat with them.

'I'm James Potter, and these are Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Who are you?'

'Oh Merlin, they're not even _respectable_ half bloods.' Muttered Sirius. 'I'm Sirius Black.' There. Short and to the point. Maybe they'll get the hint and leave me alone from now on.

'Black? Aren't we related somehow?' That infernal Potter brat! Couldn't he just get the hint and just shut up!

'Yes. We're third cousins – twice removed on my mother's side. Your mother is my Great Aunt. But I'm trying to forget that I'm related to you, it's quite painful to admit that I'm related to someone like you.' I was quite proud of that little speech it was scathing, and to the point. Maybe he would get the point now?

'Why would you know that? And what do you mean, someone like me?' Ahh, clearly not then.

'Look at yourself. You have a_ssociated_ with half bloods. Not even respectable ones! And your entire family are blood traitors. You disgust me.'

'oh, you're one of those types of people are you? You think you're so much better then Peter or Remus, because you can trace your family back a hundred years and they're all magical. i can't belive my mother was part of all that crap.'

'your mother used to meet my Great Aunt Elladora for afternoon tea at our house for years until Great Aunt died. Then she met with my mother. Still does as a matter of fact.'

'WHAT! My mother wouldn't come near you and your family with a ten-foot broomstick!'

'of course not. Real ladies don't use them.'

'UGGGHHHH! You are infuriating!'

I turned to the other two in the boat and addressed them. 'Can you see what bad breeding does to you? He's an inarticulate bump, who will probably resort to violence in a moment as he has little command of the English language.' I was particularly proud with how the argument was going so far. He had remained calm and collected throughout, not even raising my voice, and coming back with witty comments, just as I had been raised to, too ensure that no-one else picked up on arguments between pure bloods and used them against you. Also, it was much more fun.

Ahh, just as I had predicted, Potter has resorted to violence. I think I'll fall in, that way I can gain sympathy votes from others in my year, prove that I am always right, and it doesn't matter if I get wet or cold, I know the charms to change that.

Thank Merlin we were near the shore, no-one can look graceful swimming, and you certainly can't look graceful trying to clamber back into a boat from a lake. I drew myself up and applied drying and heating charms to my body, throwing disgusted and haughty looks at James Potter as I did so. He looked astonished that I could cast this simple magic successfully, and I could make out regret all over his ridiculously expressive face. Honestly, pure bloods should have carefully arranged expressions, and if in doubt, go blank. I turned and followed my fellow students up to the castle without a word to Potter or his little friends.

We entered a large hall following a stern looking witch, who looked like the type who you wouldn't like to cross. I could identify her as Professor McGonagall thanks to his cousins' helpful descriptions of all the Professors and the school in general. She led us through a wooden door into a smaller side hall where she instructed us to 'smarten up' and that she would return for us in a moment. I looked around for other pure bloods to talk to and saw Avery to my left. I swiftly made my way over to him, and greeted my old acquaintance. Of course I didn't have any friends, Blacks don't make friends, we make advantageous acquaintances.

Professor McGonagall returned after around five minutes, and led us all into the Great Hall. It really was as fancy as I had been prepared for. The ceiling was reflecting an impressive sun set over the school, turning the stone flagged floor a blend of pinks, oranges and yellows. I didn't listen to the sorting hats song, I was searching out my cousins and acquaintances at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. I only began to pay attention when Professor McGonagall called out peoples' names. My name was the fourth name called, after Almond, Titania was pronounced a Hufflepuff. I swaggered up to the hat, confidence oozing from me, expecting, along with the rest of the Hall, an instant Slytherin. What happened, however, was very different.

The hat sank over my eyes obscuring my vision of the Slytherin table and my cousins' hopeful, expectant faces.

_Hmmmmm. Difficult, very difficult.  
><em>What's difficult? Sort me into Slytherin, that's where I belong, that's where all Blacks belong.  
><em>Yes, most Blacks are sorted there, but you're not most Blacks, are you Sirius?<br>_Just sort me! I can't believe that this school would have such a slow method of sorting people into houses that they were born into.  
><em>You don't mean that though, do you? I can see bravery and courage in here, alongside cunning and slyness. Gryffindor alongside Slytherin. You would do well in Gryffindor.<br>_Not Gryffindor! Not Gryffindor!_  
>Not Gryffindor? But you would do great things in GRYFFINDOR!<em>

I heard the hat shout the last word to the hall. Professor McGonagall lifted the hat off my head, and I sought out my cousins' faces, desperate for someone to tell me it was all a joke, that I was really in Slytherin, that my cousins weren't really looking at me like I'd just, announced myself a mudblood killed their parents and danced on their dead bodies. I looked around the Hall, still sitting on the rickety stool, no-one was clapping for me from Gryffindor, they all knew I was supposed to be sitting at the Slytherin table – not theirs. Professor McGonagall looked at me and told me to go to my seat. I was in a trance. I slowly got up and walked to the table – the table I never in my wildest nightmares had dreamed of sitting at once, let alone for seven years. All my plans were gone, mother and father would hate me, Bella, Narcissa, Regulus – they would all hate me. Andromeda probably wouldn't care, but she married a _mudblood_, she didn't know anything. I sat down at the end of the table, as far away from everyone else as possible, not that it was hard, they all moved away from me, leaving a couple of feet between me and the nearest person.

The sorting continued without anything else as dramatic. My dormitory mates were the other three boys from the boat. At least there weren't any mudbloods; I don't think I could have stood that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The food was probably delicious, but I couldn't taste anything. The little food I ate tasted like sawdust in my mouth, and for most of the meal I sat and stared at my empty plate, trying not to breach any rules of etiquette, and apart from remaining absolutely silent all meal, I managed that completely. A feat I was ridiculously proud of.

When Professor Dumbledore announced the end of dinner, I didn't know how to feel, relived that the torturous meal was over, or apprehensive of the reception that awaited me in the Gryffindor common room and dormitory this evening. I followed the Gryffindor Prefects out of the hall with a glance over my shoulder to the Slytherin door – where I should be going – and saw my cousins and acquaintances leaving without a backwards glance to me. So much for family love, not that we ever really were, but I was surprised at Narcissa – she and I were always close, or so I had thought. Turning my back on the Great Hall, I squared my shoulders and turned to face my doom.

On the way up to Gryffindor tower, I tried to memorise the route we were travelling, it was sure as hell that no-one would be willing to help me out. It seemed that the Gryffindors had been holding back their resentment in front of the teachers in the Great Hall, as people bashed into me, spat on me, or hissed hate-filled words at me as they brushed passed me to reach their friends. I hadn't expected any less, but it still hurt, in a vague, detached sort of way. I supposed that it was because these were the people I was (unfortunately) going to be spending the next seven years with, and I craved some sort of acceptance from them – a craving which was denied. We eventually reached a portrait of a lady in a pale pink dress with lots of layers in it standing behind a hippopotamus with another in the distance. The male Prefect turned to the rabble surrounding him and his female counterpart, and spoke to us.

'Hello. I am William Dunstan, and this is Tracey Kettleburn, and we are the sixth year Prefects for Gryffindor house. If you have any issues then feel free to contact us, and we will help you in any way we can. This is the entrance to our common room, and you will need a password to enter. The password will change throughout the year at random intervals, and the new password will be posted on the notice board. The boys dormitories are on the left, and the girls are on the right, the year group is noted on the door.'

I snorted mentally. _Sure _they'll be willing to assist me, the only Black in history to _not_ be sorted into either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Ha! They'll probably be the ones causing my issues.

'The password at the moment is Flibbertigibbet. Remember this, as you need to say it every time you go into the common room, and don't tell the password to anyone outside of Gryffindor house.'

We all entered the common room and were ushered to our dormitories by the fifth years and up. I braced myself for comments and so on that were sure to begin as soon as we got into the room. As I shut the door, I stayed facing it for a minute steadying my breath and trying to get up some courage that I apparently had. My internal pep-talk (which consisted mainly of 'just turn around and go to bed you idiot! Then they might forget about you and you can avoid them all from tomorrow!') was interrupted, when one of my dorm mates, Pettigrew I think, said 'Look. We're not going to do anything to you, you're probably better at magic than us, and you know dark magic, it would be stupid to attack. I'm going to bed now, James and Remus are already in bed, and if you want to go to bed instead of staring at a rather uninteresting door, then feel free. Goodnight.'

Right. The half blood is now making me into an idiot, Note to Self: don't talk to him. Even if he did just say they weren't going to attack me, words mean nothing, they could just be waiting for me to relax and let my guard down before they pounce – that's what Father always did when teaching me. First things first though, turn around. Now, scan the room for any traps – and take in all details of the room in case of having to negotiate it in the dark. Hmmm, it's not as bad as it could have been, it's messy already, but it's quite large. There are four, large four poster beds with trunks at the ends of them. There is (obviously) only one left, at the other end of the room, clearly meant to be my bed for this year. I regard it suspiciously, and cast a complicated revealing charm that took a few tries to get right; I had learnt it in preparation for being in Slytherin – they're a suspicious lot in Slytherin. There was nothing wrong with my bed, apart from it having red hangings instead of green. I opened the red velvet hangings and eyed the plump gold pillows and dark red duvet and blanket. Again, nothing was wrong. No suspicious lumps in the duvet, nothing under or in the pillows, and yes, I did check. I went to my carefully packed trunk, and got out my pyjama bottoms to change to go to bed, when I saw a piece of parchment on my carefully folded clothes. It was written in an elegant hand, clearly written by a pure blood, and seemingly harmless. I bent to look at it, and it read thus:

'Black.

We aren't going to hurt you here, there's no point in it, you clearly don't want to be here, and you'll probably get a load of shit from your family for it, so we thought we'd give you a place to hide. Only first year boys and Professor McGonagall can get in here without one of our permissions, so no-one can hurt you here.

James, Peter and Remus.'

Ok, they 'weren't going to hurt me'? We'd see about that, everyone hurts you, even if they promise they won't. Well, I'd leave it for tonight. I still had to write to my mother, she'd find out tonight weather I wrote to her or not, it would be all over pure blood society by tomorrow morning. Every single pure or half blood would be writing to their families this evening, and if I wanted to minimise the bollocking I was sure to get, then I needed to write to her, now.

I dug through my things, trying to find my school bag with parchment, quills and ink in. Damn house elves and their crappy packing, it's impossible to find anything in this mess. Aha! Mission accomplished, all I have to do now is write my death sentence to my mother. Should be easy.

After a few hours of struggling, I had a letter for my parents, which I considered to be grovelling yet refined, apologetic and depressed, and as un-Gryffindor as I could manage, and one for my younger brother, Regulus.

'Dear Mother and Father,  
>As you know, I have just been sorted into my house at Hogwarts. The Sorting Hat seems to have lost its' marbles, as it has sorted me into the least likely house imaginable. Gryffindor. I do not know why it would do such a thing, and I am still in shock that it could do something like this. I don't know if I can be re-sorted, I am wary of approaching Professor Dumbledore in this mental state. I apologise for causing such unbearable shame to the most Noble and Ancient House of Black. To make matters worse, I have to share a dormitory with Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin, two half bloods and a blood traitor! I have no idea how to survive this unending torment. I hope that one day you can forgive me for all I have done, but Regulus will be able to take my place if this is not the case.<br>Yours,  
>Sirius Orion Black'<p>

'Reggie,  
>I have suffered the ultimate shame. I am to be a Gryffindor. Please try and convince Mother and Father not to disown me, or to hunt me down and kill me. Please. I am entirely relying on you. How has your first day without me been?<br>Kick a house elf for me?  
>Your brother, Sirius'<p>

Reggie and I have always been close, and I prayed that this wouldn't make him hate me, as the rest of my family undoubtedly now would.

After making sure the ink was dry, I folded up the notes, and put on my dressing gown to sneak up to the Owlery that I had spotted on the way in. I successfully snuck out of the dormitory and common room, and was on my way along a corridor when I realised that I had no idea how to get to the Owlery. Damn. I turned around to head back to the dormitory, when I spotted a flash of blond and black hair. The exact shades of my cousins, Narcissa and Bellatrix. Crap. I had forgotten that Bellatrix was a Prefect and that Narcissa could do whatever she wanted, due to her Veela-esque looks. I snuck back along the corridor to where they had been going, when I felt someone grab my arm.

'SHIT!' I swore. Spinning around, I spotted Narcissas' hair in the faint lamp light, and Bellatrix' hand was squeezing my arm tightly. 'What are you doing, cousin?' she hissed at me. I held up the folded letters clutched in my pale hand in explanation, 'Trying to find the Owlery, favourite cousins of mine.'

'I see...' Narcissa drawled. 'And how exactly where were you going to look?'

'I-I don't know where it is, I was just turning around to get back to _Gryffindor_' I spat the name with so much venom; I was surprised it didn't kill me.

'So you don't like the little Gryffindors then?' Bellatrix seemed surprised. Why would she be surprised? Surely she knew I hated being in this stupid house?

'Of course I don't like them! What self-respecting pure blood could?' I queried. 'Look. Bellatrix, Narcissa, would you be able to do me the greatest favour you have ever done for me in your lives, and tell me how to get to the Owlery?' I was almost begging, and I was disgusted at myself, but this was the only way I could possibly redeem myself to my family – and I needed that.

'We'll do one better, and deliver them ourselves, it would be bad for you to be caught outside of bed after hours on the first night' Narcissa replied for Bellatrix as they took the letters from my hand. 'For your parents and one for Reggie, am I correct?'

'Yes, thank you so much, I will never forget this' I was almost collapsing with relief.

Narcissa and Bellatrix laughed at me, 'We're family, and of course we'll help you. We always will, as long as you are recognised family that is.'

'The same to you, cousins. I always knew you were my favourite for a reason. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight Sirius' came from both of them, but as they were walking away, Bellatrix looked over her shoulder and softly called back 'Oh and Sirius? Don't get lost, the way to your common room is straight behind you, then first left. I hope you know the password.'

'Thank you, and I won't, don't worry.' I replied, touched that Bellatrix would remember things like that for me, normally she wouldn't bother.

As I collapsed into bed later that night, I found that I cared a little less about being sorted into Gryffindor if my cousins were going to still speak to me, and help me out. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

_Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

Turns out I was wrong. The others in my dormitory may have said that they wouldn't hurt me, but they weren't going to help me either... The next morning I was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor by an irritated Prefect saying that I'd missed breakfast, he'd got my timetable and for God's sake could I just get up!

So not the best start to my anticipated first day at the esteemed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry all in all... Nevertheless, it got better, as even my dorm mates had to collect their books at some point, and by then I had collected myself enough to have dressed, primped and had my books for the day (a pure bloods gotta look good! – first rule in the hand book, and yes, there is one...). I used my immense powers of stealth to track them to the first lesson. I'd just got to the third corner successfully navigated, when I saw my cousins looking at me strangely so I went over to confront them. Bellatrix cut straight to the chase, 'Why are you looking so suspicious? Have you pulled something already?'

I, of course, vehemently denied this, and asked the way to Greenhouse 1 for Herbology. This, apparently, was in the opposite direction to where I was going so much for helpful house mates... Humph... I'd never be following them, they clearly have no idea where they are, I mean, what kind of idiot would go _into _the castle for a lesson in the Greenhouses? Obviously not me... no, no-one round here...

So, after my little excursion into the castle, I made my way to Herbology, armed with a rough map that Cissa had charmed for me – they understood that they were the only ones in this goddamn castle who would talk to me, until Mother had written to Professor Dumbledore and fixed this mess. Until then. Speaking of Mother and all her writing goodness, why haven't I received a summons to Professor Dumbledore's office about my re-sorting? That should be soon, right? Oh dear, I've got to the stage where I'm asking myself questions... that's not a good sign, I'm sure of it... Anyway, back to the _fun_ subject of Herbology. Heh, the teachers here are very odd, take Professor Sprout here for example, she's wearing a pea-green robe and a dark green bonnet, that's taking the whole I-love-plants thing a bit too far, no? As we went into the Greenhouse, I glanced around quickly to see who else was in this class, as we would no doubt be working in groups, and I couldn't work with the wrong people – that would be a disaster!

So, there was Hufflepuffs in here... never mind, there might be a few respectable pure-bloods somewhere in here. Ah! There's a Smith right there, with a Macmillan... and, is that a Zabini? Yes, they'll do, I expect that the Zabini will be alright to me, almost the same thing happened to her, except that the Zabinis' can't trace their family lines back as far as us Blacks. We can trace our family back to before Hogwarts was even thought of in the hallowed minds of Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, nearly 1000 years ago.

Thank God that Murcia Zabini agreed to work with me, she can actually _do _Herbology, not just the almost-done-by-the-end-of-the-lesson way that I usually end up with, but the I-finished-this-before-the-teacher-finished-telling-us-what-to-do way. Yeah. Also, she loves helping other people with Herbology... or at least she loves helping me, I was too busy wrestling with a Mimbulus Mimbletonia to notice what anyone else was doing. The damn thing nearly exploded on me a few times, but I was able to grab a human shield... which may or may not have been one of my dorm mates, I think it was that Lupin boy, I couldn't really tell as he was covered in pus. Warning: slight disfigurement may occur, e.g. loss of a face. He's fine now; the school nurse was able to reconstruct it using DNA from a few of his other skin cells that remained...

I'm not sure of the details, but I'm sure he'll be fine one day, and will thank me for bestowing him with a new face; it can't have hurt as much as he was making it out to anyway, and it's hardly worth crying over.

So, after Herbology, I headed off to Potions, a class I was sure to succeed in, I'd been making them since I was six after all. Unfortunately, I'd not factored in the Gryffindors. A mistake I was sure to regret.

I was quite happily collecting my ingredients for the boil curing potion we would be making, when it started. A few of the girls in my year were whispering in a corner about something, and I ignored tem, thinking that they were just talking about what to wear tomorrow, or something equally immature. That was my second mistake. Then, while I was counting the porcupine quills to be put in my recently cooled cauldron, I missed the boy who tripped past my desk relight the fire under my cauldron. That was the third mistake. Then after I unwittingly put the porcupine quills into an otherwise perfect potion, it melted my cauldron creating a disgusting smell in the classroom, and coating me in the mess. That was my fourth and final mistake. The boils created, were not the most painful thing I have suffered though, but they were up on my list, just under having finger nails ripped out and then having to play the piano loudly for an hour. Of course I didn't scream, or even make a sound, I was to masculine for that kind of activity, but I was relieved when Professor Slughorn allowed me to go to the Hospital Wing, and even pleased when he rounded on the boy who had been sitting next to me, a filthy mudblood called Corin Myriadd, asking why he didn't stop me putting in the quills, why he didn't stop the Black heir getting harmed? Oh it is good to have suck-ups as teachers...

Up at the Hospital Wing, a seemingly kind healer attended to me, guiding me to a bed, and treating me quickly and as painlessly as possible. I had to stay in the Wing for the rest of the school day, which really wasn't a problem for me, if the beginning of the day was anything to go by at any rate. That was, until I looked over to the bed next to me, and saw the boy from my Herbology class. The one I'd used as a human shield from the evil pus. Shit. Ahh well, I'd cross those bridges when I got to them, not before, and maybe his little friends had forgotten about me. Maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

I opened my eyes to the always appreciated view of three angry-looking guys gathered around the bottom of my bed. Ahh, right, it would seem that they didn't think that Lupins' face had been improved. Damn. I cunningly tried to reach for my wand, but Potter grabbed my inching hand, interrupting my heroic attempt at a last stand. Wait, last stand? What am I talking about; they haven't been trained at all. That means I can beat them! On with the attack! As I tried to move my hand again, I remembered that Potters' filthy hand was on my wrist, he wasn't permitted to touch! I shot him a glare that promised a long and painful death; it seemed that I still had it, as he retracted his hand with all the speed and gracefulness of a particularly fast crocodile. I used the opportunity to grab my wand from under my pillow, and pointed it in their general vicinity.

Pettigrew stepped towards me, his hands shaking slightly as my wand was pointed between his eyes, and he had no idea what magic I knew.  
>'You put that down now, Black, we'll beat you if you try anything, there's three of us and only one of you.'<br>'Ahh Pettigrew, trying to be brave, are we? I think you're forgetting that I am trained, and you are not. It would be like putting a child against a dueller. It just isn't done.'  
>Potter butted in, like the rampaging oaf he is, 'You stop insulting us right now! We know spells as well as you, you're not the only pureblood here, <em>Black<em>'  
>'What, Potter, you think you can beat me?' I scoffed, 'What's the best spell in you armoury? Alohamora or Lumos?'<br>' Yeah, because you're just so good at magic, what's your best spell then?'  
>'Hmm, offensive spell that I can cast regularly, probably <em>Expelliarmus<em>, but I'm pretty good at most of the first year spells.' I smirked, 'That help you make the decision to back the fuck off then?'

I laughed as they scrambled backwards, all three of them hastily putting their wands away. I glanced to my right to check the time; I'd slept the whole day!  
>'Well, chaps, lovely as our little chat has been, I must be off, people to see, things to do.'<br>'What, like grovelling to your scummy Slytherin friends? That ain't gonna work Black; your cousins got a little letter today, telling them that they should treat you like any other Gryffindor, because you aren't recognised family anymore. They left the letter on your side-table if you want to check it.'

I stared at him stunned, for one second my emotions played across my face, then my barriers slammed down, and my face became an emotionless screen. I couldn't believe it, I stared at my housemates retreating backs as they sauntered out of the Hogwarts Infirmary.

As soon as they had left, I twisted to my side, searching my table for this letter. I saw a corner of parchment and practically pounced on it, tearing open the folded paper that had clearly been stolen from Narcissa, there was the aroma of pumpkin juice contained within it, and she was the only one of us that could stand the taste, though I do suppose that was mainly due to the fact that Lucius Malfoy enjoyed the vile drink. The letter was written in my mother's distinct hand writing, I would have been able to tell that from a mile away. I scanned through the note, only taking in occasional phrases;  
><em>"...disgusted with him...never thought he'd desert the Ancient and Noble House of Black...if you find him alone, don't hesitate to dish out the punishment he should feel for such a betrayal...he will be officially disowned at Christmas when he returns home so we can exact justice on such an ungrateful son...Regulus will have to overcome this shame, do all in your power to help him."<em>  
>I could feel my hands shaking, my vision was blurring in and out of focus, but I kept my expression perfectly blank, even though I was shattering on the inside, I was a perfectly presented pureblood on the outside. I had been raised well. Not anymore though, never again would I be the favoured son, cousin, nephew, the one sought out by allies for advice or help in muggle hunting. Everything was about to change. But my face was still inscrutable. That would not change.<p>

The healer came to dismiss me quarter of an hour later, when I had regained the majority of my composure, and I slowly walked out of the Hospital Wing not paying any particular attention to where my feet were leading me, but following a harassed looking Ravenclaw seventh year, ending up in the library. Now I was here I realised that I should look up and practice more ways to defend myself, I had no family or allies to back me up now, and people would not consider the fact that I would be unable to do many spells. That had to change.

I stayed in there for the rest of the evening, searching for offensive, defensive and shielding spells. I took notes on the pronunciation, use and level of each spell, developing a small folder of spells that I had deemed worth knowing off by heart, just in case. I was still having trouble with _Finate Incatatum_, but other than that, I had grasped the basics of the others, especially _Petrificus Totales_. That one was quite fun, especially when I was practicing on the moronic Hufflepuffs sitting opposite me.

**AU: **_I'm so so sorry for leaving it this long in between chapters, real life has been a mahoosive cow, and I have to revise for my GCSEs right now, but I am as free as a bird and high as a cloud from June 18th, so I'll be writing a lot more then. I can't say how sorry I am, I last sat down to write this Chapter in October. Sorry it's so short, but this is all I can do for now. _


End file.
